You're Not Okay
by FountainPenguin
Summary: This is a story about two awkward boys hiding in the cargo hold of a jumbo jet when neither feels ready to accept what they or the other has become. (Written June 2016)


"Yes, and about that- I can't believe you all ditched me!"

"How did we ditch you? You're the one who left us to sit in the motorboat with DJ!"

"It's called strategy. I did it to help the team. I kept my focus on the game- I didn't get moony over some guy."

"From a distance, it really did look like Duncan."

"What's your excuse, Gwen?"

"Me? Oh, um- Courtney was in charge."

"Yeah, what she said. I was in charge."

"Hmph." Knuckles rapped on the bathroom door. "Cody, hurry it up. What did you even do in Newfoundland - during a non-elimination challenge - that deserves this much commentary?"

He sighed down at Courtney's carved face and threw the confessional cam a glance of pity. "I'll be out in a sec, Heather."

The knife and the wooden doll went into his backpack with the rest of his art supplies and his candy. After examining his face in the mirror beside the blinking camera and fluffing his collar, he lifted the handle and took a small step into the main hull of the jumbo jet to join the three arguing girls. But for a moment more, he lingered there by the door, pressing it to his cheek so only one big blue eye showed on their side of it.

Sierra wasn't among them. This was his chance.

"Come on, Cody." Courtney clapped her hands twice. "Let someone else have a turn."

Without speaking, he offered her the door. She and Heather wrestled over it, snapping at one another, and he didn't stay behind to see how it all ended. Hiking his backpack, he kept his thumbs in the straps and wandered off to find a new hiding place.

The far corner of the mess hall worked for a little while; dinner had been oysters and fish back in Newfoundland, so the place was dark and deserted. Possibly everybody else had rounded themselves up for sleep. Cody didn't know what time it was. He didn't care what time it was. His body had been screwed up by too many time zones too fast since day one. It wasn't first class material, or even economy class, but Cody knew he definitely couldn't head in there just yet. Sierra had begged him to pose so she could draw his figure, and after a few minutes she'd tired of studying him with his clothes on. Her fingers had actually scraped the back of his neck when he'd bolted. Cameras or not, one of these days… He shuddered to think about it.

His solitude was enjoyable while it lasted, but all good things crash to an end eventually. Alejandro charged out of the door that led to the first class sleeping area, leaned his hand against the cold metal wall of the jet, and coughed into his fist multiple times. Even though Cody stayed silent and, apart from a single glance, kept his eyes downcast, Alejandro still noticed him after only a moment. He straightened, smiled, and sat down on the bench beside him.

"My, my, Cody! Just look at the exquisite beauty of these carvings. You did these yourself, I presume?"

"I _am_ the one holding the knife," he murmured.

"You are exceptionally talented. I wouldn't have pinned you down as the one with an art gift - animal magnetism, perhaps - but looking back on it, I shouldn't be surprised. Am I correct that in one way or another, your artistic skills have something to do with your attraction to the lovely lady Gwen?"

Cody sighed for the second time in as many minutes. "Shouldn't you be in first class?"

"After Owen got his grubby hands on that tray of beans?" Alejandro shivered. "I'll go back if the canaries on that end of the plane don't stop singing. But I hope you know that I truly meant what I said, bro _migo_. You have learned your trade well." He picked up one of the other carvings and weighed it in his hand. "Ah, Bridgette. It's such a shame her exquisite beauty and skills on the surfboard could not take her very far this year. You know, I may just have to borrow these someday."

"I would think that you, of all people, wouldn't want to see her face again." Cody skinned off another curl of wood. "Sierra says you got her voted off."

Alejandro drew back, one hand on his chest. "Me? How could you think that? Not only was I attracted to her, but she wasn't even on my team."

"I don't know. I'm just repeating what I heard."

"-and I might even go so far as to say you still liked him."

"Hey, you're really not helping my case right now, Sierra. I like Duncan, but as a friend."

That was _her_ voice first. Gwen's second. Cody stuffed Courtney's wooden doll into his backpack and snatched Bridgette from Alejandro's fingers. "I gotta go. If they ask, I wasn't here."

The flaw with the world tour season was simple: It left him with limited options on where he could run. Back at Wawanakwa, the entire island had been his playground if he so chose. Not that he'd been keen to wander about the woods alone after he'd been mauled by that bear, but if Sierra had been brought onto the show while they were back on the island, it would have been so much easier to find a secret spot. Harold _had_ crawled through the ventilation shafts back at Playa Des Losers one time.

Frankly, he was sick of it, sick of her. Cody half wanted to vote himself off just to escape her, but he knew that if he did, he ran the risk of Sierra throwing the next challenge so she could vote herself off after him. No, no. Better to shake her first, then fight his hardest until the end. The knowledge that the longer he held on the longer it would be before she ensnared him again tasted like adrenaline pumping through his nerves.

In the hallway (if it could be called a hallway), Cody paused. The small, slanted double doors that led down to the cargo hold were unguarded. True, he'd been down there once before and it had been gross and dotted with rats and a few even larger animals that Chris was fond of toting about for use in their challenges - France came to mind - but if the alternative was Sierra groping her cold fingers around his bare skin…

He flipped open the first door. Glancing around for witnesses and cameras, he ducked in and allowed the hatch to fall softly shut above him. All but the faintest traces of light vanished when he did so.

It was cold in the cargo hold. Not insulated at all in any way, if Cody had to guess, which wasn't a particular surprise. He walked a few meters from the hatch before he ran across a wooden chair with a wobbly leg. Half its back had been blackened as though from a blowtorch.

Cody settled himself in it regardless and drew his backpack up against his feet. Unzipping it, he reached inside. His fingers trailed across his spiral sketchbook with its black and silver cover before he found the nearest half-carved doll. Then they went back to his notebook. The darkness was deep down here, and he didn't want to risk making the wrong slice when he'd been doing so well. Cody pulled the book out from his bag, but when it was only halfway, a cardboard box labeled 'Marshmallows' tumbled from a nearby stack, spilled open, and brought him pause. He pushed it back in again. "H-hello?"

No one answered verbally, but he heard a distinct shuffling of feet.

"Izzy, you know I'm not 'It', right? I tagged you forever ago and we agreed no tag-backs, heh heh. Um. Izzy?"

There still wasn't an answer. Cody tightened his grip on his carving knife and took a step towards the door of the hold.

"I'm going to leave now."

The rustling came again. This time from directly behind him. Cody whipped around, the knife extended, and backed away towards the marshmallows. A shadow slipped away into the… bigger shadows. He bit his lip. His foot crunched down on something stale. Keeping his eyes trained on the entrance, his ears pricked for anything else that might sneak up on him, Cody bent down and picked up one of the marshmallows. When he brought it to his mouth, it smelled something like cotton and something like crab, the way Chris's marshmallows always did. And when he put his tongue to it, he could feel the little _zip_ send razor tingles down his spine.

His eyes widened as it clicked in again, the thing Sierra had once babbled among three thousand other comments she'd managed to stuff in the same run-on sentence without coming up for air. Cody opened his hand, and the 'marshmallow' plopped back to the ground. "Rectanathre."

He moved his eyes up all around the heap of drugs. Quiet acid burned in the back of his throat. He knew that scent from the Camp Wawanakwa firepit. He'd brushed it off because back then, he hadn't known any better. None of them had. The things were _illegal_. Had been for centuries. Where did one even _find_ enough cartoon physics pills to stuff them in a box like this?

Well, the answer to that question was uncomfortably obvious: the one speck of Canada - of their entire world - that lay across the thinnest point of the Barrier. The place that lived by its own set of rules because it fluctuated too much between two parallel dimensions. The place where worlds collided.

Showtown.

Showtown was a legend. A myth. At least, that's what all of them had been raised to believe since the time they could process cognitive thoughts. And then the invitations had just… shown up at Casa Dos Losers one day, there on the table innocently between the blender and the sink. Invitations to participate on one of its more famous trivia game shows- Skatoony, was it? The messages were all much the same, mostly identical: "We like you, you've participated on a reality show, you're a celebrity", yadda, yadda, yadda.

Cody had turned his invitation down for good reason. Reality twisted there. If you swung by for a visit without a pill beneath your tongue, you'd land yourself in the hospital before you could snap your fingers. A 'Bad case of someone trying to exist outside their own dimension', they liked to chuckle. You couldn't even find the place without a 'passport', and 'passport' was euphemism for dangerous drugs. Otherwise, the thing rendered itself as a couple of ruins and a blank wall scrawled with the number four. Something akin to the city of Atlantis, or Utopia, or the Fountain of Youth.

Taking CPs too far from the Barrier was bad. Oh, CPs were so, so bad. His psychologist mom had made sure to drill _that_ into his head. Rumors said that popping a couple of them rendered you invincible until the next craving kicked in. You could plunge into an active volcano and live to tell the tale if they didn't wear off on you. But if you weren't within the boundaries of the Fourth Wall, they morphed your insides into a substance that never bled and never scarred and never died. At least, not on the outside. Symptoms didn't show on the outer layer of skin. Rectanathre only fried your organs from the inside out.

As Cody stared at the pile, a deep, dark puddle of dread spread out from his chest. There were bite marks all over those partially-chewed 'marshmallows'. Someone on this plane had gotten into them. All clues pointed to Izzy, and especially if she were down here. No one else could be either that brave, or that stupi-

Something cold clapped around his mouth. Cody tried to scream, but sharp fingernails jabbed into his lips. The knife clattered to the floor.

"Shh. It's just me, Coody."

 _Zeke_! Cody tried to scream again.

"I'll let ya go, homes, but ya gotta promise s-s-silence. I doon't wanna get caught and thrown out wit'out a parachute again, eh?"

He nodded. Ezekiel drew his jittery hands away, and Cody took a deep breath as he turned around. His old friend didn't look very friendly anymore. Or… or healthy. He'd have to handle this situation as delicately as possible.

"OH MY GOSH, DUDE, WHAT THE HECK HAPPENED TO YOUR FACE?"

"Shh!" Ezekiel grabbed Cody's cheeks again and clamped him to his chest, squashing one of his ears in a painful fold. After several long seconds passed without any running boots overhead, he released him once more.

He still had his turquoise toque and green hoody, and his hair was still scruffy brown, but the similarities started to trickle off around there. Ezekiel's skin had taken on a distinctive sickly tinge. Cody prayed the dark was playing eerie games with his eyes, but deep down, somehow, he knew that wasn't the whole truth. And speaking of eyes, Ezekiel's had gone all bloodshot, and speaking of blood something had taken a chunk out of his ear, and speaking of chunks that's how his hair was falling out and…

"Zeke, you're… not okay." Cody swallowed. "Um, so you've been down here awhile, huh? I've, uh, missed you. I'm sure DJ does too- he's the only one left on Team Victory now, heh heh. How's living in the cargo hold?"

"Mm, not bad. I f-feel kinda sick though. C-Chris had my backpack sent home after my 'limination. My Vitamin-D s-s-supplement pills were in there." Ezekiel scratched his head and surveyed their surroundings. "I guess things just kinda went Jack an' Jill a-afta that, eh?"

"Yeah," Cody said, watching another clump of Ezekiel's hair come away in his hand.

"I'm fine, homes," Ezekiel said, like he read his mind.

Cody's eyes darted to the 'marshmallows' around their feet, then up again. "Zeke, I promise that I'm not judging you, but as your friend, it's my responsibility to ask. H-have you been taking CP pills?"

Evidently, Ezekiel wasn't too homeschooled to know what it stood for. He drew back his lips. "I doon't do d-d-drugs, Coody. I'd rather d-die a normal death when I'm eighty-five 'stead a lettin' those nasty things p-poison my ins-s-sides while I'm young, eh? Had 'em o-once when I went to Sh-Sh-Showtown and got st-stuck in the d-dinosaur times, 'member? At the Casa? N-n-ne'er again. No, I'd k-kill myself with your knife 'fore I let 'em b-b-burn me up." He picked up one of the rectanathre bits and tossed it into his mouth. His teeth flashed like they were pointed. "Why would you e'en think t'a-ask that?"

"Oh, geez." Cody pressed his lips together. There was no right way to answer that. As he wracked his brains for a bone, Ezekiel blinked at him. He blinked again. Then he let out a low, throaty growl.

"Zeke? Zeke, stop it, man, you're freaking me out!"

Ezekiel lurched a step towards him, slightly hunched, his long fingers twitching. Cody grabbed the knife and held it out in front of him, arm extended as far as it could go. It kept Ezekiel at bay, and after a few seconds, he blinked hard again and shook his head. "Huh?"

"Z-Zeke?"

His friend rubbed his nose with his sleeve and straightened his back. "Huh. That was… weird. Ooh, I'm soorry, Coody. I've been kinda s-s-slippin' out a' focus lately. Not takin' my Vitamin-D meds d-does that to me, eh?" Ezekiel touched one hand to his face. His eyes moved up and down. His brows peaked in the middle. "W-were you gonna st-st-stab me in the face, h-homie?"

"What?" Cody stuffed the knife into his still-open backpack. "Oh, you know about my art primary, right? I was just carving wood. I've, um, I've made some pretty sweet likenesses of Gwen, Courtney, Bridgette, and Leshawna so far, heh heh. Um. Lindsay's going to be next. I'm doing all the girls, and then I plan to work on some of the guys. Geez, I should probably get going, Zeke. It'll be late soon and-"

Ezekiel's eyes lit up. "I know! We c-can have a sleepo'er! It'll be just l-like the girls do! I ain't ne'er had a s-sleepo'er afore!"

Bubbles swelled up in Cody's throat. "I don't know…"

"Just come back here ta my nest, eh?"

"Um. Your nest?"

He nodded. Taking Cody's elbow, he tugged and pointed deeper into the cargo hold. "Lemme sh-sh-show you, homes. You'll like it, eh?"

Chewing on the end of his tongue, Cody allowed himself to be pulled along. Granted, he didn't want to go back upstairs and face Sierra trying to strip him, and he was curious to see what his old friend had managed to put together for himself. It must have been impressive, if Chris hadn't caught him lurking around yet. He kept his hand in his backpack where the knife was anyway.

"I put all the a-an'mals o'er there," Ezekiel said, nodding to the left, "A-a-and all the interestin' stuff that looked like C-Chris might want it, o'er that way. And I sleep o'er here, in the m-middle. But first we gotta go 'round-"

Cody dropped his pack. "There's a walrus in here!"

His brain didn't quite process it for a second or two. But undeniably, the walrus lay there on a wide red blanket, panting.

"Ayep, yep. His name's Josiah. He's old. And fat."

Josiah let out a whuff of breath in Ezekiel's direction, and the boy lifted his hands in false surrender.

"Okay, okay, you're not either a' those th-th-things, homie." He added a few weird growling sounds at the end as if translating this sentiment into walrus. Satisfied, Josiah turned his head with a snort.

"There's a walrus in here," Cody repeated.

"Y-you said that, Coody. Now, step this way. And, that way. Yep." Ezekiel glanced around the hold again, and Cody traced his gaze. Crates and suitcases had been shoved against the walls. It was all very neat and clean, and a row of barrels and boxes made a barrier. Ezekiel hopped onto a wooden desk (Why a desk in a plane?) and, still crouched, beckoned for Cody to climb up beside him. When Cody did, he dropped down. Cody followed without thinking, and regretted doing so the instant he saw the three small, white shapes loitering along the other side of the makeshift pen where straw lay strewn in loose bundles, bonking their skulls and snapping.

"Wha- Th-those are the flesh-eating goats from Germany! Oh my gosh, man, _bolt_!"

Ezekiel grabbed Cody's sleeve. "Hang on."

" _Are you going to throw me to the freaking goats_?" Cody yanked his arm away and scrambled onto the nearest green barrel. "God did NOT save me from an ant infestation, a bear, drowning, Courtney threatening to drop me from a cliff, Izzy dragging me and Sadie into a double date with that giant animatronic monster, being locked in her and Eva's room at the Casa for a week – Oh, and thanks for never realizing I was gone, by the way – plummeting from the plane at 30,000 feet, and Sierra thus far, just for you to throw me to some flesh-eating goats! In case you've forgotten, I am also horribly allergic to goat saliva!"

"Ooh," Zeke said, "you might wanna get off that c-can, Coody. That one's a li'l radioactive, eh?"

"I'll take my chances! Dude, get out of there!"

With triple bleats of fury, the goats lowered their heads, charged, and… and Ezekiel dropped to all fours, arched his back, and _hissed_.

Cody felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle up. The goats threw themselves on Ezekiel, butting his head and pawing their hooves against his chest. Their razor teeth sank into his hoody (So that was where the holes had come from) and the bells around their necks clanged like they were ringing out the apocalypse.

Ezekiel didn't even hesitate. He swept all three into a bear hug and started giving them noogies.

"Aw, c'mere, guys! Yes, Daddy m-missed you all when he s-s-smuggled away in those pots to N-N-Newfoundland, yes he did, eh? Yes, Griff, I e-e'en missed you, ya stupid r-r-rascal."

"Uh…" Cody was starting to think he should just record that sound and put it on loop. He decided not to get down from the barrel. "You're not… dead?"

Ezekiel looked genuinely surprised. Maybe he didn't understand that _they ate flesh_. He slid his hands around to plug the ears of the fat goat in his lap.

"Chef k-k-killed their mom for dinner w-when we were on our way ta New Y-York, so I kinda adopted 'em, eh? I'm t-t-teachin' 'em how ta hunt the r-rats." He picked up the biggest goat- one with a red and white collar around his neck like a candy cane. "This's G-Griffith. That's Luka in the b-blue. O'er there's Spitfire. And…" Ezekiel looked around, frowning. "W-where's Teddy?"

"Spit…fire?"

The goat in the green collar belched a thin stream of smoke, but Ezekiel was too busy keeping Griffith's teeth from his neck to notice.

"Ooh!" Suddenly he clapped a palm to his forehead, dropping Griffith with a bleat. Instantly the goat began chewing on the leg of his blue jeans. "My m-m-manners! I doon't know a lot 'bout this social st-stuff, but my parents always taught me that when s-someone comes o'er for a visit, you're s'posed to f-feed 'em a whole l-lot, eh? Um…" Ezekiel glanced around the cargo hold. "If ya l-like, I can catch ya a rat or s-somethin' too, homie."

"You've been eating rats?" Cody glanced around for a place to throw up, but everything looked like it had been arranged for a purpose. The mounds of straw were chairs. The tent tarp was a blanket. Your typical bedroom scenario. He forced himself to swallow.

"The goats do." Ezekiel leapt onto the crate beside Cody and stayed there, crouched and staring into the dark. Thankfully, the goats had gotten distracted with butting their heads and stayed on the ground. "I m-mostly just catch 'em. And I give the k-k-killin' bite, eh. But sometimes, yes, I get real hungry, so I take more b-bites."

"C'mon Zed-Man, that's sick! You have no idea where those things have been!"

Ezekiel glanced back over his shoulder with a bewildered blink. "Yeah I do."

Cody eyed the goats as they stopped butting and gathered in a line of fluff below him like soldier on a battlefield. "Okay, bad phrasing and fair point, but… but they're rats! You can't just swallow them raw!"

"Huh?" Ezekiel slunk along the row of boxes, still moving on his palms and toes. "But I d-doon't have fire for c-cooking with, and I want to eat 'em. They're good, eh?"

"Oh, that's right. You're pretty much immune to food poisoning."

"Heh. Best gift e-e-ever." He froze. His back tensed up. He lunged, spring-loaded. Before Cody had the chance to fully process that _Oh my gosh, there was a squeak, I think he hit it, he actually killed the thing, oh my gosh_ , Ezekiel was back, perched on the box like he hadn't left. The rat dangled from his jaws and his eyes shone like he'd just won the million dollars.

Instantly the goats were alert, pawing at the boxes and bleating throaty cheers. While Cody watched, Zeke shook the rat hard from side to side and leapt down into the midst of the flesh-eating beasts.

Like he was their mother.

"Are you sure you d-doon't want this, Coody?" Ezekiel asked, taking the dead rat from his mouth and holding it above the whining goats. "S'not so bad, really. You c-can have first bite, 'cuz you're my g-g-guest, eh?"

"No! No no, I'm good." Cody waved his hands in front of his face and scooted to the far side of the barrel. "Heh heh. I appreciate the offer, but I'm fine. I just had a delicious bowl of Chef's homemade oatmeal. Mmm. Delish."

Ezekiel grimaced. "I think I'll s-stick with the rats, eh?" With that, and with the goats nipping at his sleeves, he bit into the rat's scrawny haunch, chewed, nodded twice, and set the body on the floor for them to finish off. The goats dragged it off to the corner, and Cody listened anxiously to their sharp teeth clicking against bone.

Oh my gosh he just ate the rat he just ate a flipping rat what even.

"Now." Ezekiel made himself comfortable in the straw and leaned forward on his elbows. "Tell me why you came d-down here in my cargo hoold by y-y-yourself, eh?"

"Uh, well, I got a little lost looking for the bathro… Hang on; _your_ cargo hold?"

"Kinda c-coozy, eh?"

"Um… sure." Cody slid his eyes around the little cage of boxes and straw and murderous goat children and drew his knees closer to his chin.

"So? My ears are your ears. Did Owen or H-Heatha or Coourtney squeal that _The Zeke_ 's been hidin' down here and you came to f-feed me?" He tilted his head, looking pointedly up at Cody's pockets. On auto-pilot, Cody fumbled around and came up with a piece of taffy wrapped in yellow paper. He started to lift it up, then lowered his arm again.

"Wait. Wait. Owen, Courtney, _and_ Heather all know you're here? How long have they… No one told _me_ you were here."

"You're t-t-ticked," Ezekiel said in surprise, still holding his hand out for the candy. "Why?"

"I guess it kind of hurts my feelings, that's all."

"Ooh… Why?"

"I don't know. Just that no one told me my friend was still around and palling about with vicious baby animals, heh heh. And the girls are my teammates. I don't like thinking that they know secrets about the plane that I don't, y'know?"

Ezekiel continued to hold his hand out for the candy. Sighing, Cody tossed it down to him and put his fists to his cheeks. Ezekiel ripped the wrapping with his teeth and licked the yellow square into his mouth. Chewing occupied him for about thirty seconds before he swallowed and looked up at Cody again. "Is there any m-more?"

"Sorry, bud."

He looked hurt, eyebrows tilted up. "You have more. I can s-s-smell it on ya."

Groaning, Cody took a second piece from his pocket, this one pink. "Fine. But tell me one thing. Why hasn't Chris thrown you out the plane again?"

"Th-that's easy, eh. Coourtney and I made a deal. I promised joining an all-l-liance with her if I got back in the game, and she messed his c-cam'ra so it only plays blank loop de l-loops a' the cargo hoold. She's good with 'lectronics like that. Kinda her gift?" Abandoning the straw (and thank goodness too, because the goats had finished off the rat, bones and all, and were starting to look hungry again), Ezekiel climbed onto the chest of drawers beside Cody's barrel and snatched the candy from his fingers. "Any other q-questions?"

"Are you cold? Is that why you're stuttering and jittering so bad?"

"A li'l, and prob'ly yeah. S'not real i-i-i-insulated down here, but you get used to it p-pretty quick."

Cody dropped the candy in his friend's palm. Ezekiel frowned.

"That was t-two questions, eh?"

"I'll give you the other after you've taken time to digest. Seriously dude, slow down."

"Okay…" Ezekiel unwrapped the next piece. Still chewing, he said, "So why're ya down here, homie?"

Because he was afraid that if tried to leave then Zeke would get offended and sic the goats on him after all.

"Nothing much. I mean, not really anything huge. It's just… Well, I needed some space from…"

"S'erra?"

"Nailed it first guess." He sighed. "I only made it down here at all because she snuck a pizza box out of Chris's private suite and has been occupied with drawing a picture of me – shirtless – and herself on the top half for use as a 'laptop wallpaper', heh heh. She's taken all nine of my toothbrushes and used them so hard that she's shredded the bristles. She wants to teach me how to Eskimo kiss and French kiss at the same time. I'm afraid to be alone with her, cameras rolling or not. The others won't help me at all because they're afraid of ending up on the receiving end of her fury. What do you think I should do?"

"Hmm… If I t-tell my advice, will ya gimme another c-c-candy?"

Cody outturned his pockets and fished around until he'd pulled out so many scraps, odds, and ends that he'd completely covered his lap and the entire top of the barrel. Let's see. Some hair gel that he never used because it gave him hives, but kept around in case it ever stopped giving him hives. A string of colorful paperclips. A crumpled paper plane. Gwen's bra. A couple of pens. Coins. A lint roller. A shopping bag from Wal-Mart. An empty can of strawberry soda. The sketchbook he'd stuffed in there when he'd dropped his backpack near the walrus and forgotten to pick it up.

No more taffy. The rest had been hidden around the first class cabin. Or maybe Sierra's scrapbook by now.

"I can give you some breath mints," he offered, because seriously, Zeke needed them way more than he did.

"Tch. How 'bout that q-quarter you got there?"

"Dude, you can't eat that."

"No. But it's sh-shiny. I don't got many sh-shiny things down here now that the yeti took my bling, and it makes me h-h-happy."

Cody flipped him the coin, and Zeke caught it in his palm. "Coody, you have to tell S-S-S'erra that 'No' means no, you hate her s-soul, and she's gotta lose off fore'er."

"But…" Cody bit his lip. "That's mean."

Ezekiel made another "Tch" and crossed his arms. "You _gotta_ , Coody. If ya don't p-push her o'er her high h-horse, someone's gonna get h-h-hurt. 'Tis better you than her."

"Why, because she's a girl?"

On second thought, trying to strike tender nerves on purpose was probably a really bad move at this point.

Ezekiel ground his teeth. They made a noise like Heather's nails on tin, and the goats mimicked it below in perfect unison. " _No_. Because she's the bad g-guy here, eh?"

Cody felt his eyes burn a little in the backs. "She's not bad!"

"But you're g-good. An' she's against ya. She's scarin' ya and h-hurtin' ya. Cargo, she's the bad guy."

"Yeah, but she doesn't _mean_ to be that way. Trust me, she doesn't understand my terror. She's a really nice person, she just…"

Ezekiel tilted his head. "I'm worried 'bout ya, homes. You're not okay. S'erra don't get that she's wr-wreckin' ya out. If ya don't put a stop ta this, she's gonna do… _things_ with you, eh? Whether ya w-want that or not." He raised his eyebrows. "R-repeat afta me: 'I'm real sorry, but I ain't c-c-comfortable with this, and ya need ta leave m-me alone for the rest a' my l-life'."

Cody scratched a mosquito bite on his wrist. "I can't say that."

"Why not, eh?"

"Because… because…"

"Why, Coody?"

"Because that's not the kind of person I can bring myself to be! I've been shot down so many times! All of them painful, and when I think about how much Sierra's done for me, how much I did for Gwen, and when she's sitting there looking at me with those big eyes, that tiny smile, I… I just can't do that to her." He wiped his eyes with a single knuckle. "Heh heh. For once, I don't even know a psychological term for this."

"Stolkhoolm S-Syndrome?"

Cody groaned and started replacing his things in his pockets. "No, Zeke. _Empathy_. I can't look her in the eyes and break her heart like that. I'd feel like a horrible person for the rest of the game. Geez- or for the rest of my life. And everyone's _watching_. I don't want the audience to think bad of me…"

"Hmm… If ya'd bring her d-down here, I could get the goats to-"

"Zed, no!" Cody's heart leapt to his throat. "Murder is never the answer!"

"Then let me just t-talk ta her. If you won't tell her 'No', I can do it for ya. I'll be g-gentle 'bout it. S-swears, eh?" He reached up one pinkie.

Cody glanced swiftly at the goats again. They had fallen asleep a very short while ago in the straw, still working their tiny jaws as they snored. "I can't ask you to do that for me, dude. Sierra couldn't keep a secret if the million bucks depended on it. If she finds out you're down here…"

"Yeah."

There was a long pause.

"So… do you like anyone, Zeke?"

"Huh?"

"You know, girls." Cody put his hands on the barrel and scooted himself forward again. "That's what you're supposed to do at sleepovers, right? Talk about girls and which ones you like?"

"Sure, I like some girls." Ezekiel started flicking out his fingers. "I like B-Bri'gette, an' Beth, an' K-Katie, an' Lindsay, an' Eva's s'not so bad when ya get ta know h-her… Ooh. I guess ya w-would know that, huh?"

"Heh heh. Eva's always been _my_ friend. But I never realized she was finally yours now too." Cody took his sketchbook and a blue pen from his pocket again. The light in the cargo hold wasn't amazing, but he could still manage a decent sketch if he tried. Even if the plane did clatter and jar and mess up his lines like every two seconds. "Congrats, dude. Glad you finally made up with her."

"Well, _kinda_ 'made u-up' with her." Ezekiel stared down at his fingernails. They were sharp and dirty, and one on his left hand was chipped in half. "D'ya know, homes, you were 'b-bout the first one she e'er called by n-name 'stead a nickname back at the Playa? An' only you were brave 'nough ta nickname her Albert. Heh. She ain't so b-bad sometimes. But then o-other times she scares me, eh? And I doon't like Sadie. Or H-Heatha. Or Gwen." He shivered. "They're kinda mean, eh?" And then he said, "Oops. Sorry."

Cody shrugged the comment off – Gwen _was_ a little rough until she got to know you – and licked the tip of his pen. "But is there anyone you like, more than like?"

"Eh?" Ezekiel sounded like he was only finally getting what Cody had meant. "Not… really. I mean, B-Beth's nice, an' she's real tough an' cold an' she lives on a farm like me, but she's got her b-b-boyfriend still. An' Bri'gette's pretty, but she don't l-like me anymore, eh? And I like Coourtney's f-freckles, but she ain't my t-t-type. So… nope."

Cody cut another dark line on his paper for Ezekiel's jaw. "Aw, cheer up, dude. Someday you'll find somebody who loves every bit about you, who knows you well enough to pick up on all your quirks and secrets without you ever telling them… A person who loves your flaws and strengths alike, and doesn't care when you make a mistake or snap at them, because they truly believe that deep down in there, you're the one they want to stay with forever. _Ah_ …" Suddenly he blinked. He'd been sketching Ezekiel's ragged face, but while he'd been daydreaming, half of it had turned into Gwen. Oops.

"So… you mean like S'erra."

He tightened his grip on the pen. "Heh heh. You're a funny man, Zeke."

Ezekiel pushed back his toque, shooting Cody a hard gray stare. "You're thinkin' 'bout the girl with blue hair. You still like her, e'en though she's always t-tellin' ya she don't wanna go anywhere with ya, and that she'd rather ya l-l-left her alone."

"Of course I still like her." He frowned at his sketchpad, then flipped it over to the next page. If Sierra found it again, he hoped she would never ask why he'd drawn a face partly Gwen and partly Zeke. That was going to be hard to explain to a ship-happy fangirl. "Gwen's not just hot. Not that I'm saying she isn't, because she is, but she's also clever and mysterious and she likes to draw (even though she isn't very good at it, but don't you dare ever tell her I said so), and beneath that tough shell she's a soft sweetheart inside, and I just like to be around her."

"… Y'know ya c-c-creep up her, eh?"

"Creep up… Oh, you mean I creep her out." Cody clicked the pen against his teeth. "Yeah, she doesn't warm up to people easily, but my charms will melt her tough heart eventually. Who knows? Maybe someday she'll say yes when I ask her out."

Ezekiel shook his head. "Coody. That's S'erra. You're S-S'erra."

"I'm _nothing_ like Sierra!"

Pause. Rat skitters, goat snores.

"A-and, if you give me a couple minutes, I'll be able to think of a reason why that's true."

Ezekiel scratched at his throat, watching in silence as Cody scribbled in another quick face and toque on paper. "So uh, since I guess we're both okay bein' done t-talkin' 'bout girls, can we play Truth or Dare now?"

"Uh…"

The goats were still sleeping below. Luka even looked like he was stirring.

"I'd… rather not. Actually, I should get back to Loser Class, heh heh. The girls will be wondering where I am."

"Ooh." Ezekiel hung his head, but brightened up again almost immediately. "N-next time though, eh?"

"Sure. Next time." Cody set his book to the side so he could swing off the hopefully-not-actually-radioactive bin without slicing his hands along the edges.

Ezekiel laughed. "Do I really l-l-look like that? I kinda l-let myself go if I do, eh?"

"Just a little," he said back, and grabbing it, he hurried off across the cargo hold. The other animals didn't pay him any attention. Most of the floor had been cleared by Ezekiel's patient hands, so he didn't trip on anything. No, his getaway was quick and easy, and that suited him just fine.

Cody grabbed the handle of the door flap. Quickly, so it wouldn't squeak, he shoved it open. But even though he was still clinging to the handle, he misjudged the distance to the wall. The door hit with a clang.

" _Ahh_!" Up the hall, Noah whirled around and flung his paper cup of strawberries. It didn't even make it to Cody's face, and rolled on the ground between them as he climbed from the hold. Noah's expression went from outright terrified to dull irritation in the time it took to blink. "Oh. You're not Izzy."

"Hey, Noah." Cody rubbed his ear. "Didn't mean to startle you."

Noah bent down to pick up his scattered fruit. "Seeing as you never do, I require no apology. Might I inquire just why you were down there with the rats and the horse?"

"Sierra."

"Should've guessed. Rather you than me." With a careless wave, he spun about and strolled off down the hall.

"Hey, um, Noah?"

"Mmhm?" he asked, turning halfway back around.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Noah waited for about two seconds, then lifted one brow. "Was that it?"

Cody let out a low groan. "You don't want to make this easy for me, do you?"

"Wasn't planning to, no. That's not really my thing." Noah examined his fingernails. "Any time now, Codemeister."

"Okay. Um. Let's see. You're friends with Eva, right? And I'm friends with Eva, right?"

Noah looked up, frowning now. "If you survive Sierra and want to ask her out when you get back to the Casa, she's all yours. We've been over this."

"No, no." Cody waved his hands. "There's just this hypothetical scenario I want you to talk me through."

"It isn't actually hypothetical, is it?"

"Look, I'm trying to sneak this past the cameras, okay? Can you just play along here?"

"Whatever." Noah put a strawberry in his mouth. "Look, is this going to take awhile? I want to use the confessional and make it back to First Class before Owen finds out where Tyler and I stashed the cookies."

Cody scratched his collar. "So, imagine that Eva got really mad."

"Done."

"And imagine that she got so mad, she did a stupid thing." Cody put two hands in front of him, palms facing, and moved them from the left to the right. "A really stupid thing that might get her killed, and now she's in trouble and you might just be the only one who can save her."

Noah snorted. "I'm pretty sure that would never happen, ever."

"Noah, you're getting too deep in the metaphor here, buddy."

"I thought this was hypothetical."

Cody shook his head and held out his hands again. "Imagine Eva really, really wanted to compete this season."

Noah dropped his strawberries. "Homeschool's still on the plane?"

"I was trying to keep this hypothetical," he muttered, raising a finger to his lips as he glanced uneasily at the ceiling. No cameras. Not in plain sight. But Chris had gotten good at hiding them.

Cody's gaze dropped to his shoes. "He's not okay. He's down there in the freezing cargo hold with all of Chris's animals, and he's slipping, Noah. He's spiralling into some sort of insanity. He even befriended the killer goats from Germany. He said they were better friends to him than I was."

"Um." Noah shifted his gaze between Cody and the hold. "Should we shut that hatch, then?"

"Oh. Probably, yeah."

Cody heaved the door shut and walked with Noah towards the confessional. Courtney was in there ranting something awful about Duncan and Gwen, so the two sat cross-legged and entertained themselves by drawing one another's faces in Cody's sketchbook until she'd wound down. Noah drew himself up to his feet, and he was in there almost before she'd come out. She bonked him on the head with her knuckles as she went.

As he packed away his pens and book, Cody heard Noah seethe behind the door, "And he played tonsil hockey with a fish. Lips, tongue- the whole French shebang. If that weren't retch-inducing enough, I think he actually enjoyed it too. Tch. No _wonder_ my little cousins aren't allowed to watch this show."

Chuckling, Cody swung his backpack over his shoulder and headed off to face Sierra for the night. Oh, he'd tried sleeping in the mess hall once, but it had become clear very quickly that falling asleep without witnesses around was worse than falling asleep with his head in her lap. He'd woken to her stroking his back beneath his shirt, purring… At least the jostling of the jet usually woke one of the other girls, and they had all agreed - if reluctantly - to wake him if they witnessed her coming onto him in his dreams.

In economy class, he found Heather curled up on the bench with a dribble of water leaking from the ceiling right in front of her nose. Gwen had nodded off in a sitting position, leaning against the corner, with pretty twirls of hair shifting across her lips each time she breathed. The grate that never fit quite right rattled over her head.

Courtney was settling down as Cody came in, and he had just managed to take a seat beside her when Sierra lifted her head from her pizza box and spotted him. At once the box had been flung aside, and her knees were in his lap. Her dark arms squeezed around his head, bringing his nose nearly into the space between her breasts.

"Eeee! Codykins, I knew you'd come back for me! Where did you get to? I missed you so much the whole time, hee. But I finished my masterpiece- I have to show you!"

Cody took a deep breath and did his utmost to lean away. "Heh heh. Sierra… there's s-something we need to talk about."

She leaned down and batted her eyelashes up against his. "Oh, anything, Codio. Is it marriage? Because if this is a proposal, I'd rather you waited until the challenge tomorrow so we can be sure the audience gets to see it and enjoy it as I do. What thing did you want me to know, huh?"

"That I… can't… breathe."

* * *

 **A/N:** If y'all haven't educated yourselves about the Skatoony spin-off yet, you're missing out. It's character development gold.


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